Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr

by Holly Bell

  ‘Not yet, I’m afraid.’

  ‘It’s the Millennium Falcon,’ she replied, as though it should have been the most obvious thing in the world to someone of her uncle’s advanced years. Surely during his geological epoch, the iconic spacecraft from Star Wars must have been a by-word.

  ‘Of course.’

  At that moment, Gran Flossie bustled in and looked around.

  ‘Has anyone seen my specs?’

  ‘Nooo, Graaan,’ chorused the children.

  ‘Definitely not in here,’ Kyt called from the dining-room.

  ‘I’ll check upstairs,’ offered Thomas.

  ‘Yes, next to the bed,’ replied Flossie, ‘and in the bathroom, if you would, me ’andsome. I’ll look in the kitchen again.’

  Amanda rose, eager to be helpful. She looked around the room, and spotted the glasses lurking behind a blue velvet tissue box holder, neatly positioned on a side table, under a lamp, next to a jotter and pen.

  ‘Here they are!’ she called.

  Wella got up and stretched out a hand for them.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll take them to Gran. I’ll tell her you found them.’ With that, he hurtled from the room, leaving his sister absorbed in the galactic shipyard.

  Amanda had knocked the tissue box slightly askew in her rush to deliver the spectacles to their owner, and now bent to reposition it. That was when the angle of the light showed her the imprint of a word on the pad. A word that caught her attention. It must have been written in pen with a heavy hand. The page on top had been torn off, but the indentation was clear to see: Bodmin. Amanda looked closer and saw an address beneath it. Of course, it was none of her business. The Trelawneys probably had friends up there. Friends! The Trelawneys had lived and worked in this place for generations. They must have friends, lots of friends, and among them ....

  Presently, Clemo asked Polly and Wella if they wanted to eat with the grownups and have what they were having, or eat now and have a special dinner, then go back to playing?

  ‘Special pleeeease!’ they chorused, rightly predicting chicken goujons, spaghetti hoops and peas.

  ‘Right then. Twenty minutes and then ... Gran’s coming ... to get you!’

  They squealed with delight and watched the clock every now and then while they played. Amanda, engrossed in creating landing gear for the Millennium Falcon, failed to notice the progress of the clock. Suddenly the children leapt up. Wella climbed onto the windowsill and secreted himself behind a curtain, while his sister hid behind the sofa.

  Flossie entered and, from the door, looked around the room dramatically, uttering,

  ‘Where are you, my pyskies? Come out, come out!’ There were suppressed giggles from Polly. ‘Oh, Amanda, how can I ever find them? But that’s the way of magical folk: you can’t see them unless they want you to. You just can’t tell they’re there unless they show themselves.’

  ‘So, I gather,’ replied Amanda, playing her part. ‘Whatever are you going to do?’

  ‘Well, I did have some dinner for them, but I expect I’ll just have to —’

  ‘Here I am!’ cried Wella, jumping from the windowsill.

  ‘I’m here,’ called Polly, leaping up like a jack-in-the-box, and bouncing up and down.

  ‘Well, now. It must be my lucky day,’ marvelled Flossie. ‘Come along then fairy-folk.’ With that, she led the way, dancing them off to the kitchen.

  Over dinner, Clemo asked Thomas and Amanda,

  ‘So, you’re visitin’ Mike Hogarth, are you?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, Granddad,’ answered Thomas, between savouring mouthfuls of roast beef, potatoes, parsnips, carrots, peas, Yorkshire pudding, horseradish and gravy.

  ‘Mike – the one that got away from more than one,’ remarked Gran Flossie. ‘’E’s still a very nice-lookin’ man. That Morwenna, who owns the estate agents in Lowarn Street, still calls ’im the thinkin’ woman’s crumpet!’

  ‘I’ll be sure to tell him,’ said Thomas impishly.

  ‘You do that,’ Kyt egged him on.

  Clemo grinned, then said, ‘Sorry we couldn’t ’elp you, Tom, with your Bodmin ’istory. And I wouldn’t know who to ask. As Floss said, we sea folk don’t have that much to do with the Moor.’

  Disappointing, thought Amanda, still ... it’s worth a try ....

  After dinner, Amanda took the chance of a brief spell when Flossie was alone in the kitchen and politely entered her domain.

  ‘Gran Flossie,’ as she had been instructed to call Mrs Trelawney senior.

  ‘Tha’s right. You’re ’onoray family now, flower.’

  ‘Thank you. I wanted to ask you .... I hope you won’t mind. But I saw something that confused me a little, and I’m hoping you can help.’

  ‘’Course, love. What is it?’

  ‘Well, Granddad Clemo said at dinner, that the sea folk don’t have much to do with the folk on the Moor. But I saw an address for up there on the pad in the sitting-room.’

  Flossie tutted and admitted, ‘I always was a bit ’eavy with my pen. It’s quite all right you askin’,’ she dropped her voice conspiratorially, ‘as long as we keep it between us.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Amanda agreed readily.

  ‘Well. Tom, ’e asked me and Clemo if we remembered the fire up on the Moor all those years back. And it’s true sea folk don’t concern themselves with what goes on up there. But I could see Tom was all of a pother about it. So, I gets to thinkin’; who might I know? And then I remembers as my old friend’s daughter is ’ead of Fowey Bridge School.’ Ahhh! thought Amanda, with a mixture of joy and relief. ‘She must ’ave ’eard tales or even remember ’erself. So, I thought I’d get the number and give ’er a ring or, even better, p’raps pop in.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So, I gets the school address off my friend, writes it down and pops it in my pocket, thinkin’ as no one needs to know unless I get somewhere. But I thought I might take a day off tomorrow and pop over there. Itellywhat, you fancy comin’ with me? See, there’s some as might remember somethin’ but won’t talk to the p’lice, but no ’arm in chattin’ to an old woman and ’er young friend, wouldn’t you say?’

  Amanda smiled excitedly.

  ‘I’d love to come along. But what will we say to everyone about where we’re going?’

  ‘Girls’ day out!’

  Chapter 35

  The One Who Told the Truth

  As Trelawney neared Amanda’s cottage, she asked,

  ‘Would you come in for a bit? There’s something I’d like to, well, put by you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  She made tea while he lit the fire. It was a routine they’d established at Amanda’s home over the months and into which they fell automatically.

  Once they were comfortable, she began,

  ‘I’ve been thinking about the five suspects.’

  ‘So have I.’

  ‘Well, reading people may not be my strongest suit …’

  ‘But you recognise patterns,’ Trelawney acknowledged.

  ‘Yes.’

  He leaned back, a mug of tea in his hands.

  ‘I wonder if we saw the same thing.’

  ‘Oh, please say,’ Amanda urged him.

  He smiled.

  ‘You first.’

  ‘Ok well, each of them said “we had to get the children out.”’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Except for Elodie. Elodie said “I had to get the children out.’

  ‘She uses first person singular when in public and when speaking for them all, remember,’ Trelawney pointed out.

  ‘But she wasn’t in public when she said it, and Uncle Mike had asked her to talk about the fire from purely her own perspective. But that’s not all!’

  ‘Go on,’ Trelawney encouraged her.

  ‘In the studio, that artwork: the use of crimson lake. That was Elodie’s. Elodie was the one who said I have blood on my hands. Not we; “I”. She was the only one who expressed that in her artwork, especially in the
painting of the red lake.'

  ‘Hm.’ He was only partly convinced.

  ‘She was the first protector Zoe made. It’s her instinct to do what she was created to do. She acted, not in self-defence, but in defence of the others in the Lucy family. Nevertheless, to a little child, black is black and white is white. “Thou shalt not kill”, and she had. To her, it was blood on her hands, a lake of it. Remember? “Not all the waters of Dozmary Pool can wash it away.’

  ‘That,’ countered Trelawney, ‘was a painting of a Spanish la— No. No one said it was. Marielle stepped in at that point, saying they did have lakes in Spain, and talked about one Mike should see .... Yes ... evasion, misdirection. It could well have been Dozmary Pool. And Mike asked Peter to confirm that it wasn’t Zoe or Marielle who fired the wand, and he did. But when it came to the final question, Uncle Mike asked Peter, ‘So it wasn’t any of the others who fired the wand-shot?” Peter didn’t confirm it wasn’t. He just said, “How do I convince you?”’

  ‘What do you think?’ Amanda asked, looking at Trelawney intently.

  ‘I think it’s enough for a shrewd guess.’

  ‘But I don’t want to say anything to Uncle Mike,’ Amanda insisted earnestly.

  ‘You think it would upset him because Elodie is his favourite?’

  ‘She is, isn’t she?’

  ‘I’m inclined to agree. But he has asked us to solve this. He would want to know how far we’ve got, Miss Cadabra. We should tell him now.’

  Hogarth was painting the ceiling in the sitting-room when they arrived. Not surprisingly, there was a strong smell of the emulsion.

  ‘Ah, I see you’re both big with news, and it doesn't look like the best,’ he observed, coming down the ladder and wrapping his roller in cling film. ‘But come on, sit down and out with it. You all right with the odour of emulsion, Amanda?’

  ‘Yes, fine, thank you, Uncle Mike.’

  ‘Go ahead then.’

  ‘Well ... it was Elodie, wasn’t it?’ Amanda gave their reasons. Hogarth went to the fire, lit it, then leaned on the mantelpiece.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She told you?’

  ‘She did. Elodie confessed ....’

  ***

  ‘It all happened so fast,’ she told Hogarth. ‘The children were trapped on the upper flight. Lord Dowrkampyer between me and them. I just picked up the wand and sent my will down it and shooting out the end of it. My will to stop him. That was all. I don’t know ... I just wanted to ... to stun him, but I didn’t know my own strength. He exploded before my eyes into a billion tiny … the walls, the stairs, the banister… I only had a split second to be horrified, and then I had to get the children out. You see? I had to get the children out.’

  ‘I do see, Elodie,’ Hogarth replied, with every ounce of understanding he could put into his voice. But it didn't seem to help. He insisted, ‘You never meant to kill Dowrkampyer. You meant to save the children, and you did. Like a policeman might do.’

  ‘Have you ever killed anyone?’ Elodie asked him frankly.

  ‘No,’ Hogarth admitted. ‘But I’ve had to defend myself and others. And that’s all you were doing. You’re not a killer to anyone who matters except yourself. To those children, you’re a hero. To their families, you’re a hero. And to me, you are a hero. You are the bravest person I have ever known, Elodie Lucy Penlowr.’ He took her hand. ‘Come home. I can protect you from the clans,’ he promised recklessly.

  Elodie shook her head.

  ‘You are a policeman, and a policeman should have a wife who hasn’t killed people.’

  It sounded final.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘A hundred per cent,’ said Elodie.

  ‘Peter?’ Peter shook his head regretfully.

  Marielle lifted her shoulders. ‘You heard Elodie. Yes, she speaks for me.’

  Zoe pursed her lips, and Geoffrey said,

  ‘Just so. I am not saying things will never change, but at the moment this is the consensus.’

  ***

  ‘So that is why your proposal was rejected,’ Amanda said.

  Trelawney looked at Hogarth in confusion.

  ‘Then you’ve known all along that it was Lucy who killed Dowrkampyer, and that it was Elodie in particular. So why ask us to solve the case?’

  Hogarth spoke slowly. ‘I didn’t say Elodie killed him. I said that Elodie felt she did. For you see, I have always believed there was some other explanation. None of the Lucy family had had magical training. I didn't, and don’t, believe they could have used a wand, a spell, to disintegrate Dowrkampyer. There has to be more to it.’

  ‘So, Lucy is the reason why you’ve been visiting Spain all this time?’ asked Amanda.

  ‘Yes, in the main. Although I have also needed to see and consult with Vee and Harry.’

  ‘That’s why you didn’t retire when you’d served your twenty-five years,’ marvelled Thomas. Hogarth looked up, sat down and picked up his cup of tea.

  ‘I’ve never despaired.’ He smiled at his friends. ‘Especially not now. Oh no. I don’t believe you two have finished yet. I had to get you to be inside the case. And now …’

  ‘I do have an avenue to pursue,’ Trelawney admitted.

  Amanda looked at Hogarth impishly, then said,

  ‘Gran Flossie is taking me for a girls’ day out. I’m sure it’ll give me inspiration!’

  Trelawney had made no objection to this arrangement; glad Amanda was being looked after. For he had his own fish to fry.

  At that moment, Hogarth’s phone rang. He remained seated and answered the call, entirely at his ease with his company overhearing every word:

  ‘Yes, Marielle, my love, I do have good news. Amanda and Thomas are on the case. The Hounds of Hogarth are loosed.’

  Chapter 36

  Flamgoyne

  ‘This may be tricky, Thomas,’ Kyt warned, as his son drove his Ford toward the gates of Flamgoyne. They opened before the Arlodh and the Young Master.

  ‘This is the first time I’ll have parked outside the house,’ Thomas remarked.

  ‘Quite an occasion.’

  ‘Yes, I do realise it is a delicate subject I’m broaching. Thank you again, Dad, for arranging it.’

  ‘You’ll have to build your own relationship with him, you know, son, if you’re going to keep wanting to pump him for information. Plus, if I pop my clogs before he does, he’ll be your estate manager.’

  ‘Heaven forfend,’ replied Thomas, as he stopped the car. ‘That doesn’t bear thinking about on any level!’

  They got out and approached the imposing double doors, dark oak, iron-bound, framed by the granite of the Moor.

  ‘How on earth is he dealing with it all? With little or no staff?’ asked Thomas.

  ‘He couldn’t hire much if he tried. This place doesn’t have the best reputation.’

  ‘What are you going to do with the estate, Dad?’

  ‘At the moment, no idea. I can’t sell it from under Pasco. And, anyway, it reeks of sorcery that must not be inflicted on anyone else. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out between us.’

  Their arrival was anticipated; the doors opened, and there stood a tall, broad-shouldered man of advanced years with bushy grey eyebrows. He gave a nod of the head, which might have been a simple greeting or a deferential gesture.

  ‘Masters.’

  ‘Pasco,’ Kyt greeted him.

  ‘Good day,’ said Thomas.

  Pasco led the way to the back of the house and the kitchen, the warmest place in the mansion. The kettle was on, more of a welcome than Thomas had expected. They sat at the old scrubbed wooden table while Pasco made tea. No biscuits. That was still a bridge too far. They thanked him as he sat down.

  Thomas opened with, ‘I appreciate your seeing me, Pasco.’ The inspector put his hands on the table and left his police notebook in his pocket. Taking notes would not expedite matters.

  ‘Hm. You wants to know about that night,’ surmised the estate manager. ‘The
fire and the Dowrkampyer house.’

  ‘Please. Anything you can tell us that might shed light on what happened.’

  ‘Confidential.’ It was more of a statement of a condition than a question. Thomas was quick to reassure him.

  ‘Of course. Yes, in confidence.’

  ‘Well ... know this first: I weren’t there.’ Thomas nodded. ‘I didn’t go with them. My place is here, see?’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘But I see when they come back,’ Pasco conceded.

  ‘Ah.’ This sounded hopeful.

  ‘Mistress Agacine they brought in and I helped put her on the drawin’ room sofa.’

  ‘Was Master Thomas’s aunt hurt?’ Kyt enquired, tipping off his son as to the relationship.

  ‘Dead.’ Pasco drank some of his tea.

  ‘I see.’

  Pasco volunteered the next piece of information.

  ‘And Master Kaskarrek, he was wounded and so was Master Dial and Mistress Grona.’

  ‘May I ask how?’ enquired Thomas.

  The estate manager shrugged his shoulders. ‘Hm. Spell burns mostly. Multiple stuns. Maze and sting, prob’ly.’

  ‘Who else came back, Pasco?’

  ‘All of them.’

  ‘Even Lady Gr— Great-grandmother?’

  ‘Yes. The Arlodha led as always,’ Pasco stated with a touch of pride.

  ‘Was anyone else hurt?

  ‘Mightabin, but those was who I saw.’

  Trelawney tried a new tack.

  ‘Did you overhear anything they said?’

  ‘Not much. Not my place in the drawin’ room. I just ’elped them in. But I ’eard the Arlodha say “Job done”.’

  ‘Did they mention the Cardiubarns?’

  ‘Not that I ‘eard.’

  Thomas asked carefully, ‘Were they carrying anything?’

  ‘Master Kro looked like he ‘ad somethin’ under ’is cloak.’

  ‘Any idea what?’

  ‘Big. Mightabin a book. I did see somethin’ shiny under Mistress Peryl’s coat, but I couldn’t say no more ’n that.’ The words were final.